


Courtship

by Anguisette90



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Angst and Feels, Awkward Dates, Spoilers for Peace Talks & Battle Ground, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguisette90/pseuds/Anguisette90
Summary: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.-William Shakespeare, The Tempest.If you'd asked him a year ago, Harry Dresden, professional wizard and Winter Knight, probably couldn't have told you what he expected this Valentine's Day to be like. He definitely wouldn't have expected it to be likethis. Of course, this wasn't exactly what Lara had in mind for the day either.Still, neither is a stranger to doing their duty (no matter how demanding) for their Courts... and for their family.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Lara Raith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Courtship

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the microfiction competition on Jim-Butcher.com, which had the requirements of a fic that's under 1,500 words, PG-13 or under, and about a birthday or holiday. Since the only other fic I've posted for Dresden (or anything) clocks in at something like 380k words and started off as unabashed smut, I was... less than confident in my abilities to pull off something submittable. But as I went through holidays to potentially write in my head, I realized that nothing could possibly be as painful (or as much of a reminder of everything Harry's lost between the last two books) as Valentine's Day. Plus, it's a holiday AND a birthday, which really appealed to me. 
> 
> It's way too rushed, and I'm not happy with it, but if I continue editing it any longer I'm going to lose the very tiny bit of sanity I still have left to me after almost an entire year of 2020, so I hope you derive some kind of enjoyment from it as is (even if that enjoyment is just suffering, because lets be real, you're not in this fandom if you don't like to suffer, right?)

Sometimes I really have to believe that someone up there is looking down on me, smiling… and wondering just what he can do next to make my life a living hell. For instance, it's suspicious that Mister threw up on the rug, the babysitter was running late, I cut myself shaving, and I found a tear in the only good pair of pants I owned all on the one day in the last month that I had a tight schedule to keep. As a result, I showed up twenty minutes late to find my date standing in the snow waiting for me outside of her house.

“Before you say anything,” I blurted, leaning over the passenger's seat to open the door for her. “I would have been here on time but–”

Lara Raith slid into the seat beside me, her expression one of wry disapproval. “Darling, how many dates have we planned so far?” I started a quick count in my head, but she didn't wait for an answer. “And how many have you actually shown up for?”

“Listen, if this is about last month, I told you I was _literally_ tied up, I couldn't–”

“Eight,” She informed me as if I hadn't said anything. “Care to venture a guess of how many you've shown up on time for?”

“...Four?”

“Zero.” I winced. Yeah, that sounded about right. She laid one hand on my thigh. “Relax. I’m merely pointing out that there is a pattern to our courtship, and I have no one to blame but myself if I expect otherwise at this point.”

Call me crazy, but her resignation to my routine failure to honor our commitments didn’t really help me relax. I probably shouldn’t have been so nervous. She _was_ my fiancée, after all. Shouldn’t that make me feel _more_ secure around her? Yeah. Right. “I’m still sorry. You could have waited inside.”

She shrugged, and even that simple act that should have been innocent made her body move in ways that were entirely too intriguing. “What can I say? I've found I have a taste for the cold.”

I cleared my throat and ignored the flush creeping up my cheeks. “You look even lovelier tonight than usual.” See, I can be polite. Of course, it was also true. By Lara’s standards, her dress was practically wholesome. The hem came down to her knees and the neckline peeking out under her thick fur coat bared only a mild amount of luscious, soft skin. Somehow, on her, the modesty was just more provocative.

“Thank you.” She sounded genuinely pleased. “It only seemed right, for our first Valentine’s Day together.”

My body found new ways to tense up, but I tried not to let it show. “O-of course.”

I did my best to stay out of my own head and focus on her and our conversation throughout dinner. It was easier said than done but I tried. The more time I spent with her the more I realized there were worse fates a man could face than becoming Mr. Lara Raith. Sure, she was a murderous, conniving monster, but I wasn’t so sure I was in a position to judge these days. She was also intelligent, insightful, well-read, and on occasion seemed genuinely affectionate toward me. Most importantly, we understood each other. If I was distant while we ate, she didn’t complain. When she caught herself mid-sentence over dessert and quickly changed the subject, I pretended not to notice. There were whole herds of elephants in the room with us and we avoided them masterfully.

What more could I really ask for in a woman at this point?

After dinner, we went skating at a rink by the University. It didn’t have quite the same romantic atmosphere as the Ribbon or the Plaza, but Lara didn’t object. I imagine she was still just as eager to avoid Millennium Park as I was. Either way, she wouldn't hold it against me.

Between my Winter ties and her natural grace, we made a spectacle, dancing across the ice like professionals. She laughed, a rich, beautiful sound of pure delight, and I smiled, relaxing enough to enjoy this moment together. A happy smile directed at me. The warmth of another person beside me. The feeling of someone’s hand in mine, even if we both wore gloves. Even if hers weren't the hands I wanted to be holding.

“Thank you,” She said quietly as we walked back to the car. “It's been quite a while since I've enjoyed myself like that.”

“Well, it’s Valentine’s Day so…” I mumbled, giving an apologetic shrug. “Least I could do, considering.”

“If this is the least you can do, I can’t wait to see what actually trying looks like.” I started to apologize again but she squeezed my hand. I hadn’t even noticed she was still holding it. “I’m teasing you. You remember teasing, don’t you? It used to be our primary means of communication?”

“Sorry Lara, I… I’m bad company lately. I know that. I’ll work on it.”

“That’s not what I meant, dear.” Something in me squirmed at the pet name, but when she cupped my face and turned it toward her, I didn’t stop her. “I know how hard this is for you. I appreciate the effort. I appreciate _you_. Thank you, for a lovely evening.”

I took a deep breath, leaning into her touch despite myself. “One more stop, if you’re still up for it.”

Her face rippled with emotion, just a flash, too quick for the normal mortal eye to catch, and then her mask slid back into place. “I am if you are.”

I nodded and we got in the car. We were both quiet the whole drive, and even after we'd boarded the boat and left the marina, we didn’t speak for a long time. “’Ss flowers, down below,” I told her when I couldn’t take the silence any longer. She looked up at me like she hadn’t quite heard me right. “And chocolate.”

She shook her head, laughing under her breath, but she still smiled. “There’s no one around. You don’t have to keep pretending, Harry.”

“I know but,” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “It isn’t all pretend, right? We _are_ engaged.”

“For political reasons, yes,” Lara answered, but she was heading below deck to investigate. She resurfaced a minute later. “Two dozen roses?”

“I didn’t know what you liked. Roses seemed safe.”

“But two dozen?”

I shrugged. “Reasons don’t matter, Lara. Stars, you know I’m not thrilled with the arrangement but if we’re going to do this for the long haul, I’m at least going to do it right.”

Without a word, she looped her arm through mine where I held onto the wheel, and carefully laid her head on my shoulder. Silence fell again but it was softer than before, companionable if still tense. When we arrived, I docked and disembarked, then offered out my hand to help her. She took it and I held on the entire way up to the lighthouse. She made no move to take it back.

Lara's already pallid skin looked sickly in the glow of the crystal as we stared down at it together. “Can he talk to us?” Her words were whispered but still too loud.

“No.” It was the kindest answer I could give her. She didn’t need to know that there was nothing magical preventing it, that Thomas was just still too broken to react.

“Can he hear us?”

“I don’t know. But I talk to him anyway.” I didn’t tell her what I talked about. I didn’t tell her about nights spent apologizing for failing him over and over until I lost my voice. But I think she knew anyway.

“Hey, Tommy.” I doubted many other people ever heard Lara Raith sound so gentle. “We came to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” I echoed hollowly.

She knelt, reclaiming her hand to stroke the crystal's surface. I walked away, still in her line of sight but far enough to give her some privacy. I tried not to listen, but I still heard her shouting turn to cursing and cursing turn to tears. When the tears stopped, I returned and offered her a hand up. We traced our way back to the dock and headed home.

Lara stood silently by my side, hugging herself as if to ward off the chill. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’ll get him back.”

“The way you say it, I almost believe you.” I felt her watching me but kept my eyes on the horizon. “You did what you could.”

My jaw clenched, biting back self-recriminations. “You too.”

“Orchids.” I looked down, arching an eyebrow. “You were right, about the long haul. So… orchids. They’re my favorite.”

I kissed the back of one gloved hand. “Orchids next time. Noted.”

It wasn’t a long-haul kind of love, but it was a start.


End file.
